Long Backseats Poems
Long Backseats Poems. Below are the most popular long Backseats by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Backseats poems by poem length and keyword.
when our skin touches
im left with diluted smells
like wearing your boyfriend's hoodie
only its not mine to have
These smells have become nauseating
reminding me im only useful for backseats
and undercover kisses
my body is craving closeness
but im only handed meaningless motions
and tinted glass laughs
blurring what they really want from me
Love is only a broken teenage dream
my skin isnt what it used to be
im left with marks
from those who never truly knew me
Its not mine
But I still choose to love like this
backseats have become a place where Im seen
in the same space just another girl
they're always going to replace
Its something to distract me
from the damaged parts of my body
they never choose to see
Gulls circled above, spiralling through car exhaust
Kids fidgeted in the backseats of chaos
Eerie silence, interrupted by overheated transmissions
Someone blasting The Doors...theme music
Stern, heavily armored Homeland Security soldiers
Slowly approached, assuming insurrection
Just another day in the new Amerika
Land of the free, home of the brave
Large signs proclaim:
"All contents must be declared, please exit your
Vehicle when stopped"
Off to the side, transport busses waited
Like praying mantis seizing their victims
Filling quickly,
abandoned cars quickly towed
Destination unknown
Destination
Unknown
04/12/13
© All Rights Reserved
He came out fighting
He always comes out fighting
Like a caged animal who has not lost his oomph yet
Today was no different
His parents were called
They have blocked the school’s phone number
They do not want to know
We are a bother to them
He is six
He always comes out fighting
We wonder about them
But they never come
Parents who do not come to school even to pick him up.
They send different people each day
People arrive in pickup trucks and jeeps.
Most do not greet him
The only reason we know they have permission
to pick him up, is the mother calls in.
She does not answer, but she does call.
Our sad little fighter slides into backseats daily.
No one turns
No one greets him
He comes out fighting daily
Wonder why?
We tender that special moment that was well earned, spent in our fabled youth's labyrinth passages beholden to young hearts locked in eternal time for e'er so oft consequent the key of memories call. It beckons me now in subsequent years of a pensive soul tryst with thyself. Loneliness fades grasped by natures blooming redolences proffering counsel to evaporate my soul resplendent aspiration to utterance, awakening welcomed birds to flight and favor a dusky crown bejeweled with distant stars flickering arousal as a moon in its laborious mood o'er guiding men to sort out words of worn-out paper neatly tucked away neath backseats of a row vehicles parked on a hillside crowded lane. A cooled engine warms my car as I leave behind a season of mist and mellow fruitfulness.
2020 January 28
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” By John Keats
Machines With Madmen Groaning
Machines with madmen groaning above me at 10 thousand feet,
Grumbling and growling like maniac sky monsters slurping on bloody prey,
Those steel dragons of yore spewing fire and corpses into the excesses,
Like Rodan and Godzilla maiming each other in the frozen spasming countrysides,
Giant crazed beasts reciprocating the deafening overtures of contrived violences,
Contrived annihilations, a few math equations, and we have the Beast rising from the sea.
Here, pour me a glass of your backwashed spittle as it internalizes with basically nothing.
It’s time to find the time to describe a time when clocks will rage on like crazed moon dancers,
When the girls on the boulevard were cool and accessible in their cruising flirtations.
When tanned nomads inside their cool cars found gliding nirvanas, and a bra strap,
Amidst the midnight milkshakes and the incredible nude conversations in the backseats of time.
Machines with motorized redundancies tap into the central eye where speed finds inertness.
Life can be found below the stage on the Thames, river of history, by the Black Friars on Coffee Street.
Incense-filled rooms lie mysteriously down a long gloomy walkway around the opaque tree line.
Ghosts of codgers and spillmen greet the toothless ladies with bloody knees and rotting finery,.
A young bard shakes the hands of broggers and yeomen with dripping quills and pig’s blood.
Grind on young thespians! Read your antique lines, not forgetting your monologues dedicated to fear.
Grant that the music of the spheres above captures the relative major, with silent egresses to be heard.
We traverse those extraordinary significances that transpired
well earned, spent in our fabled youth's labyrinth corridors
obliged naive hearts bolted in present infinity for so oft
succeeding the key of memories becall. It beckons
in subsequent years of a pensive soul tryst with
thyself. Loneliness fades grasped by natures
opening redolences proffering counsel to
evaporate my soul resplendent aspiration to utterance, awakening
greeted birds to flight and favor a dusky crown bejeweled by
distant stars flickering arousal as a moon in its assiduous
mood o'er guiding men to sort out words of worn-out
theme deftly tucked away neath backseats of row
vehicles parked on an acclivity crowded lane.
Steered twilight's, vigilant years wane,
within the effervescent youth from
dawns intrepid golden sleigh.
2020 February 02
When the night
Clouds out of sight
Evil goes off thought
But at heart do persist
When the moon
Announces it soon
It becomes a boon
Joy to the goon
When the acts are local
It resist every being vocal
And design the land's dry miracle
To play games so satirical
With the joy of money
Immoral becomes honey
Causes many mourning
Tagged forewarning
With every visible injuries on joints
Gut got them crazy points
Even if Malignancies swallow Microsoft
They won't excel in theft
One seems powerful than others
Of the three units
Overshadowing with tactful conceits
To comfort others at the backseats
Wake from your slumber
Wake and take the pains no further